


Sparklefingers

by moodymarshmallow



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: M/M, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Prompt Fic, Slash, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-23
Updated: 2012-06-23
Packaged: 2017-11-08 09:49:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/441898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodymarshmallow/pseuds/moodymarshmallow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This prompt is specifically for Spicyshimmy. </p><p>Pairing: Theron/Anders/Zevran.</p><p>Location: Wine Cellar of Vigil’s Keep.</p><p>Word/Phrase to include: “Sparklefingers”.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sparklefingers

**Author's Note:**

> To anyone who has been reading Theron paired up with Anders, he is going to seem very OOC here. This is a one-shot that, if happened, would take place in the canon continuum, where Theron is paired up with Zevran. To say that he’s a different man when he’s with Zevran is a tremendous understatement…I doubt anyone is going to notice or care, but, I felt like I had to say it anyway.

It was late, or perhaps early—those distinctions always seemed a bit arbitrary when the moon was high and the rest of Vigil’s Keep had been asleep for hours—when Anders found Theron and Zevran together in the wine cellar. He hadn’t necessarily been looking for them, even if the Seneschal was griping about how often the Warden-Commander was going missing since Zevran’s arrival two weeks ago. When he had appeared, whisked in on some balmy Antivan wind, smelling like spice and sweat in the best of ways, he upset the status quo at Vigil’s Keep more than anything else could have, save for an outright assault by the darkspawn.   
  
The Antivan was proving to be a terrible distraction to everyone, but no one so much as Theron, whom he’d drag off for hours at inopportune times, somehow always managing to stay out of sight long enough to frustrate everyone other than Sigrun, who thought that the not-so-private affair that the two elves were carrying out was adorable.

Anders figured out where they were hiding, inadvertently, when he went down to the cellar for a bottle of aqua vitae. A noise from the corner distracted him before he could find it, and when he rounded it, curious, he saw Theron perched on a high counter with Zevran, wearing only a pair of trousers, standing between his knees, blond head buried into his neck while his visible hand crept up Theron’s bare thigh, disappearing under the skirted leather. Zevran’s back was to Anders, exposing a myriad of dark, whirling tattoos, and Theron was so curled around him that neither of them noticed his intrusion.   
  
He hadn’t meant to watch. Although he’d walked into scenes like this, and worse, at Kinloch Hold, there were different rules here regarding privacy and he was doing his best to learn and obey them. But there was something so captivating in the tableau of Theron’s face, flushed and fond, lips parted silently as Zevran’s head dropped into his lap.

Anders mouth was dry when Theron grabbed handfuls of Zevran’s hair and shifted his hips forward, flattening his back against the stone wall. There was this little voice in Anders’ head saying that he ought to back out of the room and let them be alone, but that was the same voice that said things about  _not_  trying to escape templars and keeping his mouth shut when a pretty woman walked by. It wasn’t a voice he was used to listening to. So he stayed where he was, incredibly still, with his cheeks heating and his smalls feeling a good measure tighter than they had before coming downstairs.

“We’re being watched,” Theron said. His eyes flickered from Zevran’s head in his lap to the corner where Anders was poorly concealed. “By a mage who thinks he’s ah—” Zevran was distracting, flicking the tip of his tongue across the head of Theron’s cock, paying no attention to his words, or the mage in the corner, whose presence he was well aware of. Theron pulled at Zevran’s hair, urging him to stop so that he could catch his breath before continuing. “Who thinks he’s being stealthy,” he said, finally, and Zevran turned to follow his gaze before letting out a chuckle that was no more than one staccato syllable.   
  
“So, my sweet, are you going to ask Sparklefingers to join us, or should I?” Zevran asked as he reverently brushed one dark hand over Theron’s exposed skin, lingering on his flushed collarbone before traveling downward to tease a pale nipple. Theron pressed his lips together, huffing through his nose, bemused as he watched high color rise on Anders’ cheeks. As Zevran, ever eager, once again took Theron’s cock into his mouth, Theron raised one hand and beckoned Anders, a coy smile spreading over his lips, but not staying. When Zevran took him deep, pressing his nose flush to Theron’s skin burying it in dark, red hair, Theron lost the ability to play the seductive coquette as he cried out, screwed his eyes shut, and tried desperately not to buck down Zevran’s throat.

Both of them expected Anders to back sheepishly out of the room and return to his quarters for an awkward wank that would leave him blushing whenever he looked at them, or, at most, he would watch and do it there, which was more than fine, an audience could be a terribly exciting thing, but he proved them wrong. When Theron opened his eyes, Anders had advanced on them, looking a bit tentative, but much less embarrassed than Theron would have suspected.   
  
“Come here.” Theron brushed his knuckles across Anders’ scruffy chin when he did, sliding his hand back and down his neck, fingers trembling with the excitement of a first touch. Anders had touched him to heal him before, but this was something wholly different, heated and sweet, and totally out of context. With one hand gently tangled in Zevran’s hair, Theron pulled Anders in, at first just brushing their lips together, breathing too quickly and deeply to properly do anything else, looking into his eyes and finding a luscious fire in there. “Do you want me?” He asked in a low whisper, still not ready to kiss him, slowly licking his bottom lip instead, watching his chest rise quickly as he sucked in a deep breath.

“I may have a passing interest.” Anders cupped Theron’s cheek, eyes darting down to watch Zevran’s head bobbing for a long moment before he cleared his throat and turned his attention back to Theron, smiling as he watched him have a hard time keeping his composure. “This is okay?” Anders asked, leaning in, dropping that hand to his shoulder and down one of Theron’s tightly muscled arms.   
  
Theron answered with parted lips and insistent tongue, closing the short distance between them by yanking him in by his robes, tasting Anders’ mouth and groaning into it, breathing quick and erratic through his nose. Another first, a good one, one that may have happened sooner if Zevran had been here all along, providing the bit of boldness and comfort that Theron needed to be himself.

But that was besides the point. What mattered right now was Zevran releasing his cock to trail his tongue in a wet, hot line from his belly button to his neck, smirking the whole way, and Anders’ hand on his thigh, creeping up from his knee with gentle persistence. Zevran slid away from Theron, running a hand over the back of Anders’ robes to ease him into the position he’d just vacated, all the while eagerly looking for a clasp or tie so that he could undress the mage.   
  
“You two…do this often? Seduce mages in wine cellars?” Anders asked, his voice amused but genuinely curious as he settled against the counter, hips between Theron’s knees, looking down at his flushed ears and finding himself compelled to taste them. When he did, Theron’s hands scrabbled up his sides, fingers pressing into soft fabric, short gasps increasing in volume when his tongue found the very tip of one of those delicate, elongated ears. It twitched in his mouth, and Theron raked his nails down his sides, whispering incoherently as he sucked on it.

“Every chance we get,” answered Zevran, that smirk audible in his voice. He found the jeweled clasp on Anders’ neck and fiddled with it, deft fingers figuring out the mechanism quickly. “You mean to say that you don’t? How tragic.” Zevran said with mock sympathy, sliding Anders’ pauldrons down and off.   
  
Anders experimentally raked his teeth across the tip of Theron’s ear, startling when Theron growled unfamiliar syllables at him. “Oooh, you’ve got him speaking Elvish,” Zevran said as he stood on his toes to brush his lips against Anders’ ear. “Keep doing that.” He did, only until Zevran managed to unhook his robes and start pulling them down, detaching from Theron so he could step out of them.

Theron slid himself to the edge of the counter to get closer to Anders, running a hand across the hair on his chest, thinking that this was yet another first, another good one, and liking the unfamiliarity of a human’s body compared to that of an elf, liking that he was wider and less smooth, with more hair and thicker muscles. He pressed himself in, wrapping his legs around his waist and putting his tongue to his neck to feel the pulse fluttering there, shuddering when Anders’ long fingers finally danced over his cock, being far too gentle as he circled his thumb over the slit, feeling the beading moisture and rubbing it in. Theron laced his fingers with Anders’, unable to reach Anders’ cock due to their awkward positioning. He didn’t need to, Zevran had slid his hand into Anders’ smalls and was stroking him eagerly, bringing his teeth down on Anders’ shoulder when he groaned.

“How long have you wanted this?” Theron asked, whispering conspiratorially into Anders’ ear, licking it, nibbling it, tugging ever so gently on the gold ring with his teeth, damn near purring when Anders mimicked the process with Theron’s ear, right down to the earring.   
  
“I can’t say it didn’t cross my mind,” Anders said, clenching his teeth as Zevran both found a good rhythm and slid his thumb across the base of Anders’ spine then down the crack of his ass, making the task of thinking an impossibility.   
  
So they didn’t think—there wasn’t much thought required for this anyway, it was all feral and animal, hands and teeth and tongue, huffing and growling, leaving red marks and bites that would last for days. There were glances that were more tender than they ought to be, punctuated by kisses that slipped carelessly from wet, swollen lips to get burned on stubble as they found chin and cheek instead. There was desperation and pleading from Theron as Anders slowed and teased, leading him to the edge and keeping him there, wanting until he couldn’t anymore. When he came, he nearly slipped off the counter, and Anders had to hold him there, one arm wrapped around him as their hands, still clasped like lovers’, became slick with his spending, and Theron quivered like a leaf in a powerful wind.

When he was relaxed, and it took him a few minutes to get there, Theron leaned back against the stone wall, chilly from sweat and the cool air of the cellar, watching through half-lidded eyes as Zevran spun Anders around, shoving him against the countertop and pressing their bodies together, grinning up at him, fierce and beautiful. Exhausted but still eager, Theron draped himself over Anders’ back, nuzzling into his ear, watching Zevran pull down his smalls.   
  
“Oh, very nice,” Theron said, licking the shell of his ear, grinning when he felt Anders’ face color again. He took down Anders’ hair, despite his protests, and nuzzled into it, combing it with his hands, fingertips brushing his sweaty scalp. “Zev, can we keep him?” Theron asked as he fluffed out Anders’ hair, putting his lips to his temple, smiling at Zevran’s distracted “si amor.”   
  
“Do I get a say?” Anders asked, watching Zevran drop to his knees, leaning to the side when Theron buried his face in his neck.   
  
“Would you say no?”

“Well, no, but…it’s the principle of thi—nnnn.” Anders dissolved into groans, leaning his head back against Theron’s chest, gripping the countertop tightly, white-knuckled and tense as Zevran slid his tongue down the underside of his cock. Theron mouthed his ear, traveling down to his bare shoulder, peering over it to watch Zevran as he crouched between his knees, one hand on his ass, the other between his own legs.   
  
“Doesn’t he have an incredible mouth?” Theron asked, murmuring sotto voce into his shoulder, feeling heated and somewhat disappointed that he’d already spent when he watched Zevran’s lips envelope Anders’ cock. He smiled when Anders shuddered. “The first time I felt that tongue—”

“Maker, you two aren’t actually elves, are you? You’re bloody desire demons, and you’re trying to kill me.”   
  
“Only a little death, just a small one.” Theron reassured him, getting him to release the countertop with one of his hands and lifting it to his wet lips, dragging his tongue across his fingertips before sliding his forefinger and middle finger into his mouth, suckling and sighing, content and terribly pleased.   
  
That was all it took to push Anders over the end, and he had to lock his knees to stop himself from collapsing onto the floor, overwhelmed with sensation, emptying himself into Zevran’s waiting mouth, giving over not just his seed but any strength left in his spine. This time, Theron held Anders up, tightening one arm and his legs around him, using his body weight, if nothing else, to keep him from dropping when his knees went weak on him.   
  
“Maker’s breath.” Anders only managed to gasp that out after he regained control of his legs, opening his eyes to see Zevran satisfied and somehow smug, licking his lips. “Demons. Bloody demons is what you are. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you planned this.”   
  
“What do you know? It seems that you’re smarter than you appear sometimes.” Zevran chuckled, resting back on his heels, wiping a wet, sticky hand on his trousers.

Theron kissed Anders’ sweaty forehead, before dropping his lips to purr into his ear. “Do you have any idea how long we’ve been waiting for you to find out that your alchemy reagents were missing?”  
  
“Next time, Sparklefingers, perhaps we drop the pretense and you just join us in the Commander’s suite, yes?”   
  
Anders looked between the two of them, meeting two sets of wide, eager eyes, and found himself compelled to nod. Maybe they  _were_  demons, but, all things considered, he could think of a lot worse ways to go.


End file.
